Prouncing through the meadow,
Long grass dancing upon the breeze,
The lutist dances just as free,
Plucking at strings willy-nilly,
With abandon,
Fast and free.
But tears stream down his face,
With equal abandon,
Knowing this would be the last time he'd be free.
The kingdom was burning,
The ruler slain,
The people shackled,
The peasants slain,
But still he plucked,
As the baying of wardogs drew closer,
Drowning out the screams the lutist tried to outplay.
The sky once blue,
Hazed in grey,
Smoke pouring from the bastion,
Where his king lay flayed.
Where is the army?
The knights?
The Cavalry?
The archers?
The brave?
Flung far away in a distant land,
Without hope of saving the day.
The Lutist felt the warmth,
Heard the pattern of rushing paws right behind his feet,
As he closed his eyes,
Prepared to die,
And ready to meet his fate.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 3:54 PM UTC
Prouncing through the meadow,
Long grass dancing upon the breeze,
The lutist dances just as free,
Plucking at strings willy-nilly,
With abandon,
Fast and free.
But tears stream down his face,
With equal abandon,
Knowing this would be the last time he'd be free.
The kingdom was burning,
The ruler slain,
The people shackled,
The peasants slain,
But still he plucked,
As the baying of wardogs drew closer,
Drowning out the screams the lutist tried to outplay.
The sky once blue,
Hazed in grey,
Smoke pouring from the bastion,
Where his king lay flayed.
Where is the army?
The knights?
The Cavalry?
The archers?
The brave?
Flung far away in a distant land,
Without hope of saving the day.
The Lutist felt the warmth,
Heard the pattern of rushing paws right behind his feet,
As he closed his eyes,
Prepared to die,
And ready to meet his fate.
